


when the night gets cold

by miraculouskatsukii



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Blood, Canon Compliant, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Anxiety Attack, M/M, Post-Canon, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Touch-Starved, implied depression, phichit is great, sort of??, trigger warning: blood, viktor suffers and the author is Living
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-30 14:18:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11465340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miraculouskatsukii/pseuds/miraculouskatsukii
Summary: Yuuri doesn't know how he's ended up here, texting an Instagram account that is no longer in use about his deep emotional problems. It's not that no one in his life would understand his problems, but it's that no one in his life would understand his problems. And so here he is. Luckily enough, he won't have to go for a risky late-night ice rink visit to blow off some steam and potentially harm himself in doing so... right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [La_Temperanza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/La_Temperanza/gifts).



> in light of recent comments: BLOOD TRIGGER WARNING!!  
> hello! this was the end result of a very angsty text prompt on the VWC discord - and to clarify: no character death!! this is NOT character death!! I'm just a terrible person and i make my boy suffer xx hope you enjoy despite the fact that it was written in one sitting and is chock full of typos  
> title from the song Lighthouse by GRL - give it a listen, it's very emotional and always makes me cry xx  
> EDIT: anon commenter suzy alerted me to this, i did't properly tag my work!! i want to so deeply apologize to you all, extreme violence in the default ao3 tags didn't apply really, and i honestly didn't know what else to tag other than rating it as a T. tags have been updated now, i really hope they're alright now!! again, I'm so so sorry, I can't believe i was so forgetful and horrible xx

“I’ll be out for a run, love,” Victor called from where he was tying his shoelaces near the door. “Did you walk Makka already or should I take him with me?” 

 

“I took him out while you were still at the rink with Yakov, but I don’t think she would mind another walk,” Yuuri said from where he was curled up on the couch, watching over his practice videos to figure out what jumps needed perfecting and where. 

 

Victor picked up the leash that was hanging by the door and called Makkachin to him. “Alright then, do we need anything from the store?”

 

“I think we’re fine for now,” Yuuri said, pausing the videos he was watching and turning to smile at Victor playfully ruffling Makkachin’s fur. Their eyes met, and Victor shot him one of those heartwarming smiles of his that made Yuuri’s insides melt. He didn’t deserve this man. Victor quickly walked over to the couch to peck his lips before calling out his last goodbyes and leaving. 

 

Yuuri sighed, pressing play on his iPad to only watch himself fall over and over again. Everyone had their bad days, but lately Yuuri had been having way too many. His personal skating videos had slowly been devolving into videos of him falling over and over. A sort of domino effect had taken control over his skating; every time he jumped into a quad or a triple his memory of his last failed jump sprang to his mind, plaguing him and pulling him down onto the cold hard ice. Each fall fed into the next one, creating an endless cycle of self-hate in his mind. 

 

What made it worse was the feeling of the other skaters eyes on his back as he failed yet another triple axel - his favourite jump. He didn’t want to see Yurio’s pitiful stare or Mila’s saddened eyes follow him around the rink. What was  _ wrong _ with him? The hardest part was the knowing - knowing he could jump that triple axel, knowing his could land it better than anyone at that rink, and yet not being able to overcome the part of his mind that whispered  _ fall, you should fall right here. You don’t deserve to land it, fall, just fall, you fool. _

 

Yuuri frowned angrily, and rubbed away the frustrated tears that had sprung up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry - wouldn’t be able to stand himself if he cried over this when he knew there was a very logical explanation to everything. He just wanted to be able to let it all out. To tell someone who would understand how much he hated failing and feeling like an absolute piece of crap all the time. 

 

Victor would just cuddle him, call him his little katsudon and then fall asleep, and while Yuuri appreciated his sentiment, Victor didn’t really know how to respond to Yuuri’s moments of weakness.

 

Phichit would deliver a long rant about his own self-worth and how he deserves to get out there and get back up again, and Phichit always meant well and was right but Yuuri didn’t want  _ rationality _ . He wanted someone to listen to the thoughts in the dark part of his mind. 

 

Yurio - was Yurio even an option? - would probably punch him and then shout about he was right except not, because he’s an amazing skater and rival, but yeah he’s right.  _ That kid is so confusing.  _

 

Yuuri felt so small and helpless right now - he didn’t want any advice, didn’t want anyone to answer his pleas, but just for someone to listen. He would even settle with someone pretending to listen. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of his thoughts before they became too much. Yuuri exited the camera roll on the iPad, and pushed it as far away from him as possible. Instead, he grabbed his phone, ready to spend the rest of his evening randomly clicking through his social media. 

 

Oh, Phichit’s sent me something, Yuuri thought, clicking onto his DMs and smiling softly at the #relatable post Phichit had sent him before replying. Tapping back into the general DMs page, Yuuri stared for a bit at his screen before beginning to mindlessly scroll through his old DMs. It had been a while since he’d done this, look through old conversations and reminiscing about past friendships. He passed a couple conversations with old university classmates, and even stumbled upon a groupchat with his old high school classmates. 

 

It was the last two DMs in particular that caught his eye: the second to last had been a mass message sent out to many people from a friend’s new account, because his old one had been hacked, and the last DM he had was the hacked account. Intrigued, he tapped into it. Yuuri noticed that the profile picture had simply been replaced with a default graphic profile image, and at the top of the page, where the username should be, it just said  _ Instagrammer _ . 

 

_ Huh _ , Yuuri thought.  _ It wouldn’t hurt… _

 

>>Hey, this hacked account means I could technically send you anything, right?<<

 

The blank account, of course, didn’t respond. A crazy idea floated into his head, an absolutely  _ insane _ idea… 

 

He just wanted someone to  _ listen _ . That someone didn’t necessarily have to be a human person, Yuuri bet that even the illusion of someone listening could help make him feel better…

 

>>And you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone… or reply…<<

>>Frankly this seems half-perfect, and half-stupid considering I’m doing the internet equivalent of having a conversation with a wall<<

>>This is more validating than having a conversation with a wall, really<<

 

_ Just tell them… let someone know how much you’ve fucked up… he said to himself. No one will know… even if I  _ will _ feel even more like the idiot that I am.  _

 

>>Ah, fuck it<<

>>No one’s gonna find out either way<<

>>Hi, I’m Katsuki Yuuri and I feel like the most undeserving person on this entire planet<<

 

Yuuri let out a quiet breath. However insane it felt to talk to someone who would never respond… it still felt calming to see those messages sent and out there, on the internet, for anyone to read. 

 

>>I’ve fallen too many times to count on my hands today<<

 

Memories of the cold, harsh ice that had once been his home resurfaced, bringing back with them the physical stinging feeling in his palms and the sour taste in his mouth at the feeling of another failure. 

 

>>And I know I’m not being fair on myself like this, but damn, if I’d like doing something right in my life now<<

 

Yuuri leaned back, letting his head hang off the edge of the couch. It was tough sorting through his feelings when it felt like they didn’t want to be sorted. Trying to figure out what was making him feel so sick was like wading through the bottom of the ocean. Where everything was dark and you couldn’t see. And you were blindfolded. And you had weights tied to both your legs. And arms. And-

 

He could go on forever. But what really, really, made his guts twist and turn in that unpleasant way that screamed  _ i will lose it right now _ was the way Victor looked at him. 

 

Not with pity. Not with pain. Not with sadness.

 

With love.

 

And that’s what really tore up his insides.

 

Whenever he’d fall, Victor was there with a smile and a helping hand, an encouragement, a happy voice and even happier smile as though Yuuri had just landed the world’s first quadruple axel. Victor treated him with such love and respect and for whatever it frustrated Yuuri beyond comprehension. It made him want to throw up and tear his hair out. 

 

_ Don’t smile at me _ , Yuuri screamed in his mind as he would graciously accept Victor’s help getting up.  _ I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve you, why do you love me, for god’s sake make it stop make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it sto- _

 

Where was he? Right. Instagrammer. 

 

>>I don’t want him to notice how much it hurts<<

>>My biggest fear isn’t that he’ll start lying, or cheating or ignoring me. I don’t think he’s a mean enough man to do something like that<<

>>but…<<

>>my biggest fear is that one day… one tuesday morning, say, he’ll wake up.<<

>>before me, of course, ever the early riser<<

>>and instead of leaning over to give me a good morning kiss<<

>>he’ll stop dead inches from my face<<

>>and he’ll realise<<

>>just how big of a mistake i am<<

>>he’ll finally snap out of whatever reverie he was in before, wake himself up, and finally see me for who i am. he’ll see my chapped lips and my crooked nose and all those damn stretch marks<<

>>he’ll notice the off-season pudge and compare it to his perfect skater’s body and finally understand why i can’t make all those jumps with my thick thighs and thick stomach<<

<<he’ll think about how i talk too much, or too little, or how awkward i am, at how imperfect i seem here surrounded by amazingly talented athletes<<

>>and he’ll think of my weird random dark thoughts that lead me to situations such as talking to a dead instagram account<<

>>he’ll think about all these flaws, carefully consider each and every one of them<<

>>then he’ll lean away, and walk out of the bed, make himself a cup of tea maybe<<

>>and come to the conclusion that, for no particular reason at all, he doesn’t love me anymore<<

 

Yuuri didn’t realise there were tears streaking down his face until one plopped onto his phone’s screen. His eyes widened as he snapped himself out of his hate-induced rant. He needed to get rid of this, get rid of these thoughts. Quickly tapping out of the DM page, his finger hovered over the delete button, but he found he couldn’t bring himself to do so. 

 

Deleting those messages almost felt like deleting his feelings, the slow realisation of his insecurities. Deleting those messages would mean not feeling anything anymore and weirdly enough that sounded even worse than living through his current emotions. It was actually really satisfying, hating yourself, and seeing those validating words out in front of him; in some sick, twisted way it actually pleased him.

 

He slid away the delete button before locking his phone and throwing it down onto the couch next to him. He never wanted to be reminded of that experience, but he knew he’d see the messages every time he opened his Instagram DMs, at least until he messaged enough people to make it disappear from his top six. 

 

Dinner that night was a quiet affair - then again, it nearly always was. Their training always drained them out, no matter how much rest they got. Victor didn’t comment on his unusually skittish behaviours, probably putting it down to his recent failures. 

 

“I just want to get some sleep, too,” Victor yawned, stretching out on the kitchen chair. “You coming?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be right there, let me clean up,” Yuuri smiled. 

 

_ Why in the world am I acting like this? It’s like my first here all over again. I need to get it together _ , he thought. 

 

Managing to get his thoughts out of his head was easy enough… until it came to actually sleeping. Washing the dishes? Brushing your teeth? Changing into your pajamas? Those were all thing that Yuuri could focus very very intensely on to ignore the possibility of what might happen tomorrow morning. Finally relaxing into the mattress and letting Victor drape an arm over his waist made Yuuri hyper-aware of everything going around him. The slightest brush of covers against his back made his nerves pique, any difference in Victor’s breathing made his own go crazy, the tiniest of movements and Yuuri felt like he was reduced into a pile of anxiousness and failed quads. 

 

He needed to get out.

 

He needed to get out and go, anywhere, anywhere from here. He loved Victor with all his heart but the warm press of his chest did nothing to alleviate his shortening breaths and growing level of frustration. Yuuri closed his eyes, harshly scrunching up his face and trying to let go of the prickly feeling all over his skin before not being able to do it anymore. 

 

Yuuri sat up, quickly throwing off the covers, but dragging his pillow back in Victor’s arms, to make sure he wouldn’t realise Yuuri was gone. He quickly splashed his face with water in the bathroom before going onto the terrace and letting the cool summer night air wash over his skin. He took a few deep breaths, hands trembling and knuckles white from holding onto the railing so tight before he was off, sprinting through the apartment and gathering up his skating gear to go to the only place he knew he’d be safe. 

 

Yakov had (unwillingly) agreed to give them the keys to the rink, for late night practice during competition season, and Yuuri still had them. Getting to the rink seemed like he was walking in a dream, the lights too bright and the shadows too dark. Not many people were out in the city, leaving Yuuri with an unsettled feeling, but it was all worth it once he slid into the large building though the side door and set his gym bag on the bleachers next to the rink. 

 

Yuuri tied up his skates determinedly. He was going to either land that damn triple axel, or he would kill himself doing it. No matter how late the hour, Yuuri needed to prove this to himself, and even if he couldn’t he wanted to be able to feel anything, any other pain to distract him from his internal war. 

 

Triple axel after triple axel after triple axel. By the eleventh try, Yuuri had stopped counting. It was pointless anyway. He stopped by the edge of the rink, where his bag was placed and took a small sip of water. He turned on his phone and it illuminated his face, the numbers 2:15 AM blinking up at him. 

 

He tapped in his passcode, and the purpley Instagram icon mocked him from the right side of his screen. He wanted to read over his failures so badly. Wanted to read them again and again and make fun of his past self so badly it nearly hurt. Yuuri gave in, opening up the app and his DMs. His taunting messages blinked up at him, words like awkward and jumps and stretch marks immediately jumping out to him. The thought of a saddened Victor, drinking tea one morning with a resigned and accepting look on his face spurred him into action. He slammed his phone onto the ice rinks edge, anger suddenly replacing his previous self-doubt.

 

_ I’m going to make that damn triple axel _ , he thought.

 

He sped up, trying to gain the necessary velocity to attempt the jump but by preparing himself mentally to jump, he lost that small spurt of anger that was really the only thing keeping him on his feet. He’d been attempting this jump way too many times by now, and after a full day of training and barely eating, this was the worst thing he could’ve done. 

 

Yuuri’s vision was blurring around the edges, become distorted and fuzzy as if static was overtaking his eyesight. It was a really disconcerting feeling, like when your ears would pop at different times from altitude and you could hear out of one, but not out the other. Yuuri didn’t let it bother him, the sole desire of finally, finally achieving that one jump in days of failed practice blinding his already blind vision. 

 

From the second he’d kicked himself into the air he knew something was wrong. He didn’t even manage to make it into a triple axel, landing down into a double as his skate collided with the ice at a completely wrong angle. 

 

Everything seemed to go in slow motion from the second he’d landed. He was tired - oh he was so, so tired. He didn’t want to raise his arms to protect himself from the ice. That would mean using his muscles and he was so, so tired. How had he not noticed how tired he was before? It would be nice to just… sleep. To just lay down. Oh, the ice was coming closer and closer to his face. Maybe he could just lay down…

 

* * *

 

A resounding crack was heard around the room as Yuuri Katsuki’s head hit the ice at 2:17 AM on a Tuesday morning. Blood trickled down his face and onto the ice, tainting his tears pink and the ice crimson. His body lay very, very still. 

 

* * *

 

Four hours later, Victor woke up with a very, very wrong feeling in his gut. 

 

Why was Yuuri so cold? He groaned, turning to stretch on his back before finally opening his eyes to see the sleeping beauty that…

 

The sleeping beauty that wasn’t there. 

 

“Yuuri?” he called out to the empty apartment, somehow already knowing he wouldn’t hear his lover’s voice. Victor scrambled upright, tossing the clothes nearest to him onto himself. Checking the key bowl, he noticed that the key to the rink was gone.  _ Aha, got you… _

 

The whole jog there, Victor couldn’t shake the feeling that something was undoubtedly, undeniably wrong. But what could go wrong? He would just find Yuuri there, probably going over his new choreography before anyone got the rink, and they would be fine. 

 

_ Why hasn’t he told you where he’s going? _

 

The sudden thought nearly made Victor stop in the middle of the busy morning street. 

 

Why  _ hadn’t _ Yuuri told him anything?

 

Victor began jogging towards the rink with a renewed fervour. He nodded to the security guard at the front desk, and quickly slid into the rink’s arena. The first thing he spotted was Yuuri’s gym bag and phone on the barrier between the ice and the floor. He grabbed Yuuri’s water bottle, stuffing it into his bag, but when he went to grab his phone, his hand hovered over it. 

 

The phone was opened, to an Instagram direct message page, and it wasn’t to anyone that Victor knew. Scratch that, it wasn’t to anyone  _ at all _ . 

 

Yuuri was messaging a hacked account. 

 

Victor shrugged - he himself had done stranger things -  scrolling aimlessly to the top of the messages to see how many he’d sent, before a word caught his eye.

 

His own name.

 

He scrolled quickly through the top messages, now very intrigued. His face dropped sooner than you could say katsudon, thought, as he slowly realised exactly why Yuuri was messaging a random hacked account. 

 

The messages Yuuri had sent… how could he ever think that? Victor loved Yuuri  _ because _ of his faults, he loved Yuuri because Yuuri was human and treated him as Victor not as  _ Victor Nikiforov _ , Yuuri gave him everything and - where was Yuuri exactly? Victor needed to be telling him these things, right now, and-

 

Oh.

 

_ Oh. _

 

“Yuuri!” Victor shouted across the rink. He didn’t even bother putting on his skates, he grabbed the barrier and pushed himself onto the ice rink in his sneakers, approaching the motionless figure as fast as his slippery shoes would allow him.

 

Red splotches dotted the ice surrounding Yuuri’s head and Victor felt bile rise in his throat. Yuuri  _ couldn’t _ have- he couldn’t have  _ possibly- _

 

Victor quickly tapped 101 into Yuuri’s phone, calling for an ambulance while trying his best to reach Yuuri. 

 

“Yuuri? Yuuri, zolotse, what have you done, wha- why-” Victor scrambled onto his knees besides Yuuri’s body, closing the phone call. He grabbed his wrists quickly checking for a pulse, before letting out a slow, relieved breath at the feeling of his fiance’s heartbeat.

 

**TBC...?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i'm super glad that so many of you wanted a continuation, so here it is!! hope you enjoy it ;))  
> i promised you all a resolution! a resolution on yuuri's side...

“Yuuri? Yuuri, zolotse, what have you done, wha- why-” Victor scrambled onto his knees besides Yuuri’s body, closing the phone call. He grabbed his wrists quickly checking for a pulse, before letting out a slow, relieved breath at the feeling of his fiance’s heartbeat. 

 

He craned his neck, checking for Yuuri’s breathing, and luckily enough he was breathing too. 

 

It wasn’t the best time to be complacent, but a little bit of the tension left Victor’s shoulders and he relaxed for the shortest amount of time, letting his frustrated tears reach his burning eyes. 

 

Laying on the ice for a prolonged amount of time couldn’t possible be healthy, but Victor wasn’t sure whether Yuuri had broken anything during his fall either so he would have to wait on the ice until the ambulance arrived. He quickly took off the jacket that he’d hastily put on on his way to the rink, and wrapped it around Yuuri as best as he could. It wouldn’t do much against the cold, but at least it calmed Victor’s racing heart a bit. 

 

The next few minutes were spent frantically checking Yuuri’s breathing and pulse when he thought they had slowed down or stopped. Luckily, the emergency services arrived soon, as it was early morning and the streets were fairly empty. 

 

Getting Yuuri onto the ambulance and then to the hospital seemed to pass by in a blur. Victor was allowed to climb in with the crew, because he showed the crew his and Yuuri’s matching rings. There were constantly rushing people around them, giving Yuuri painkillers and oxygen and a load of other chemicals and medical jargon that Victor couldn’t understand but was sure would do some good. Hopefully. 

 

Soon enough, they placed Yuuri in a room where they finally got some peace and quiet. A nurse informed Victor that their doctor would be coming in shortly to a deliver a full diagnosis. Victor nodded, thanking her, before letting his head fall into his palms as Yuuri’s heart rate monitor beeped in the background. 

 

Victor scrunched up his eyes and tried very, very hard to not let his mind run away to the dark depths of Before Yuuri. 

 

Again, he tried  _ very _ hard. 

 

It wasn’t his fault that it was just so easy for the anvil-like pain in his chest to consume him entirely. His emotions called out to him, almost encasing him with their prickly thorns of insecurity and doubt and fear and sadness and  _ loneliness _ . Complete utter loneliness.

 

Victor had never really known true loneliness until after he had moved to Hasetsu, which might have seemed strange considering he was surrounded by Yuuri and his family or the clients at the inn all the time there.  But it wasn’t really there that he’d felt the loneliness - it was there that he had finally had a way to compare his loneliness to something more… normal. 

 

Training everyday and then coming home to an empty home everyday for years on end did something to a person. Skating had been his life for so long, and then Victor simply hadn’t known how to let go of it - after all, he’d let go of everyone he knew for skating, years before - and now it was too late, and the damage was done. Victor truly loved Makkachin, loved that dog with all his heart, but everyday doggy piles and cuddles stopped cutting it after a while. Victor had started craving human interaction, human touch. And in doing so, had distanced himself even farther from many of the people in his life.

 

What was wrong with him? Why did he feel like this? How in the world could he possible be unhappy? He was a young athlete bachelor, any other person would kill to be in his place and yet to Victor everything felt so slow and blurry and as if the light at the end of the tunnel had suddenly been snuffed out. 

 

And then Yuuri Katsuki had happened: he had approached Victor in a way no one else ever had, as if he were a human, tangible, real, someone he could hang onto when drunk and someone who he could ask stupid drunken questions - in other words: an equal. 

 

And then Victor’s life had been turned upside down. 

 

Now here he was, a happy man in a healthy relationship with a god of a future husband who apparently valued himself so lowly he literally jumped his way to near-death. 

 

Where had things gone so wrong? How had he not seen the signs, any sort of signal Yuuri might have shown him of his own self-destruction. Everyone had bad days and Yuuri would be able to get over this - one summer when he had been 23 Victor had spent an entire two months during the off season trying to relearn the triple lutz after a particularly nasty fall on a quad lutz. 

 

The door clicked open, breaking Victor’s concentration and alerting him to their doctor’s presence. He walked in, smiling tightly at Victor before shuffling a couple papers on his clipboard. His face didn’t scream ‘your-fiance-is-dead-despite-the-heart-rate-monitor-that-shows-his-perfectly-healthy-heart-beat’ so Victor didn’t let himself panic, not just yet. 

 

“It seems your fiance has suffered some head trauma in the fall, a concussion definitely and we’ve check him for other injuries but besides a sprained ankle in his landing leg he seems to be fine. Maybe a cold from laying on that ice for so long, and just utterly exhausted too probably, he really took himself to the edge of human potential,” the doctor chuckled awkwardly at the end. 

 

Yuuri chose that very moment to sniffle and blink his eyes blearily at the bright hospital lights. 

 

“I’ll give you two some time,” the doctor said, leaving them alone before Victor could thank him. That wasn’t really on the forefront of his mind right now though. Pushing away his own emotions, he sat up straighter, helping Yuuri sit up and grabbing his hands desperately.

 

“Zolotse, how are you feeling?” Victor asked frantically.

 

Yuuri blinked sleepily a couple more times before responding. “I’m… My head hurts. And my ankle. But I’m ok… I- what happened?”

 

“You jumped a triple axel one too many times, love,” Victor kissed his fiance’s ring. “As a coach I’m very very mad but as your fiance I’m just happy you’re awake.”

 

Yuuri sighed, staring longingly into Victor’s eyes, almost as if he couldn’t believe Victor loved him. Almost as if he were wishing for it, as if Victor wouldn’t walk across the very depths of hell for this man. 

 

Which reminded Victor…

 

He rummaged around Yuuri’s skate bag that he had brought along. Victor had remembered to text Yakov, telling him that they wouldn’t be coming in to practice that day, but after that he had tossed the phone into Yuuri’s bag and hadn’t thought about it since then. 

 

He quickly tapped it open, presenting it to a very sleepy Yuuri for his passcode. After he entered the four numbers rather dazedly, Victor opened up his Instagram account which was already displaying Yuuri’s DMs. Victor turned the phone around, handing it to Yuuri who recognised the messages and startled, looking at Victor and seeing his understanding. 

 

“I just… I just want to know why you didn’t tell me,” Victor whispers, feeling his voice crack a little. 

 

Yuuri’s sad eyes got impossibly more upset. “Victor… you would try and console me. You would try and tell me how beautiful and perfect I am and… I don’t need that. I know my feelings have no root or cause, they’re irrational and that’s why I have anxiety, but invalidating my feelings is the last thing I’d want. I love you, I really do, but I just wanted someone to listen, really. That seemed the best way.”

 

He let out a long breath after that, slumping down further into his hospital bed. A certain tension seemed to have dissipated from his shoulders, letting Victor know that Yuuri had finally gotten what he wanted off his chest. It was amazing to have this person be so close to him and who valued and trusted him so much that he shared his emotions so intimately with Victor, and Victor would always be appreciative of this side of Yuuri.

 

But right now, Yuuri just needed him to take a step back, remove himself from his position as fiance, and become a listener. A family member, a friend, an acquaintance. 

 

_ That’s not what he means _ , hissed the rational side of his brain but it was so much easier to listen to the dark thoughts. It was so much easier to force himself to be  _ less clingy, less romantic, less extra, and dammit Victor you’ve let yourself go again, watch this one chance at happiness slip through your fingers, why don’t you- _

 

“Yes, of course, Yuuri, I’ll listen to you, always, always,” Victor squeezed Yuuri’s hand, trying his best to convey how willing he was.

 

How willing he was to change, to shape himself to be better, to change into the person everyone expected him to be, that picture-perfect boy who could only smile vainly and laugh at all his gold medals. 

 

Victor would do anything for Yuuri. He would even shove his reactions and feelings into a small box and shove it down that deep dark cavern in his mind, the same way he had done years ago. 

 

Victor would do anything for Yuuri. He would even break himself. 

 

**TBC...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well wasn't that a fun ride? i couldn't let this fic evolve into a cliche "yuuri has terrible anxiety and viktor takes care of him UwU" fic I'm sorry ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ viktor is my poor baby and he suffers too and everyone over looks him but i won't!! i'll have them take care of each other xx


	3. Chapter 3

Something had changed in the last few days. Something had deeply, irrevocably changed, in the way that Victor treated Yuuri, the way he behaved around Yuuri, the way he did anything anymore that concerned Yuuri and if Victor thought that this was what Yuuri had wanted then he was so deeply, irrevocably wrong. 

 

Yuuri had been allowed to go home after one more day spent in the hospital, as a precaution. Victor had at first insisted to sit by Yuuri’s side at all times, before seemingly catching himself, even growing smaller, and insisting that he didn’t have to sit beside Yuuri in the room if Yuuri didn’t want him to. The whole situation had been pretty ridiculous really, Victor nearly going out of his mind thinking that Yuuri would react angrily to his fiance’s wish to sit next to him in hospital when neither of them had anything better to do. 

 

So, something had changed. And not in a good way. 

 

Victor had shrunk into himself, living like a constant paradox, trying his best to take care of Yuuri but shrinking back into himself at any given moment, as if trying to conceal himself. It was unsettling, when his wonderfully clingy boyfriend left to go to the corner store without so much as brushing a hand through his hair. Cuddling at night had nearly disappeared completely. If Yuuri ever touched him, Victor would very obviously hesitate before slowly leaning into it.

 

What was Victor  _ doing _ ? Yuuri’s anxiety might have constantly made him irrationally insecure, but this was just plain weird and surprising. 

 

This was a matter for someone else to handle, an outsider with a clean slate and no judgements (well, nearly any judgements) to give. 

 

“Hi Phichit,” Yuuri said sleepily, smiling at his friend through the facetime call one evening where Victor had stayed at the rink for late practices. It was pretty late in Bangkok, so Yuuri was hoping to keep it a short phone call. 

 

“Hi Yuuri,” said in a possibly even sleepier tone. “How may I offer my Certified Best Friend help today?”

 

“You know how usually everything out of the ordinary that Victor does, I put down to my inherent worthlessness and fall into a mental pit of self-hate?” 

 

“I would like to amend the “inherent worthlessness” thing and inform you of your inherent perfection, but go on,” Phichit yawned. 

 

“Technicalities, but - lately he’s been acting… distant? But not distant in a way that would make my anxiety bells go off, distant in a way that screams Weirdly Placed and that Something Is Wrong,” Yuuri sighed. “Maybe you could help me figure this out?”

 

“I could nearly hear your capitalisations out loud there, you gotta teach me how you do that,” Phichit said wistfully. “And weird in what way?” 

 

“He’s…” Yuuri paused, thinking of the best way to say it. “It almost feels like he doesn’t actually want to be distant? I think it just surprised me so much my anxiety didn’t act up in time and I can see all of his tells, but - he’ll lean into my space before pulling back hurriedly. Or he’ll move very,  _ very _ deliberately around me, almost robotic. He’s been speaking less and less too. I haven’t been tagged in a facebook meme by him in days, Phichit!”

 

Phichit sucked in an audible breath. “Wow, yikes, harsh blow. Yuuri… what exactly did you tell him that Fated Day at the hospital?”

 

“Nice  job on those capitalisations, and - something along the lines of me wanting him to be someone to just listen to me sometimes? I didn’t want him to shower me with compliments at the time, so I explained it to him… I wanted him to be someone who could listen, that’s all.”

 

Phichit hummed. “So that’s how you worded it? ‘Be someone else right now?’”

 

“Well I don’t know for sure.”

 

“You know how important wording is to anxious people, Yuuri,” Phichit reminded him. It was true - Phichit had texted him thousands of harmless things during their time together as roommates that Yuuri had somehow misinterpreted. 

 

“Yeah, I - I worded it like that.”

 

There was a slight pause as Phichit thought a bit about what Yuuri had just told him. “You know I did a bit of digging after you told me the whole Instagram thing?”

 

“Digging?” Yuuri sat up straighter. 

 

“I paid Mila Babicheva with cute pictures of my hamsters, she has a weak spot for their ‘adorable eyes’ as she puts it,” Phichit waved his free hand. “She told me a bit about what Victor was like Before Yuuri Katsuki, and… as a psychology major, things were  _ not _ good, Yuuri.” 

 

“What do you mean, ‘not good’?”

 

“I’m going to be blunt Yuuri - that man was, at best, extremely touch-starved and lonely, or at worst, very seriously clinically depressed. Forgetful, constantly tired, didn’t like participating in group activities anymore, retreated from any contact with them, wasn’t able to focus, seemingly even  _ got bored with skating at one point _ , you understand what that means for a professional ice skater, right?” 

 

Yuuri nodded, anyone knew that if you weren’t inspired by your love for the sport or in one way or another, you were practically dead as a competitor. 

 

“The tabloids would make up fake stories about him because he was the face of the entire sport, the national hero of Russia, their everything. Everyone wants juicy gossip on him - also why you’ll only find him in straight relationships online or in magazines. The last boyfriend he had had was when he was 23, who promptly left him after the Fall of 2012 - he was only in it for the fame. You can piece it together.”

 

Processing this was one of the easiest things Yuuri had ever done - and not in a mean way. Of course Victor had hugged him and touched him and sat next to him at any opportunity during his stay at Hasetsu, Yuuri couldn’t imagine going 3 years without Phichit’s movie night cuddles or his skating friends’ group hugs. Even after Victor had gotten used to Yuuri being around him all the time, Victor was still a very tactile person, always absentmindedly stroking Yuuri’s shoulder or pressing butterfly kisses onto the crown of his head. 

 

“So what’s made him retreat?” Yuuri asked himself.

 

“You told him to be his old self Yuuri,” Phichit whispered softly. 

 

“What?” Yuuri looked up at his screen.

 

“You told him to be a person to listen, to not intrude in your mental and physical space, and maybe you didn’t mean it that way, but Victor took it pretty badly as a person who’s been repressing his personality for years. You need to talk, because communication is-”

 

“-key, I know Phichit,” Yuuri smiled. “Thank you. Really. I’m going to make something he likes and wait for him to come home so we can talk.”

 

“As your personal couple’s therapist I’m so proud of you. You get him, son,” Phichit pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. 

 

“Phichit I’m older than you,” Yuuri rolled his eyes. “And, thank you really. You should sleep now - goodnight!”

 

“‘Night!”

 

Yuuri closed the call and sat back on the couch. What had he just done to Victor? He felt terrible. Victor clearly wanted to touch Yuuri but thinking back to all the times that he pulled back made Yuuri’s heart break all over again. He wanted to cuddle his cute fiance and never let go. 

 

He pushed himself off the couch, to get some warm food on their dining table before Victor got home. One of his favourite dishes was  _ golubtsy _ , a meaty cabbage roll, that Victor said reminded him of long summer nights spent at his grandmother’s countryside house. They were usually served during winter, but they had recently visited his grandmother, just after the end of Worlds, and they still had some frozen up in their fridge. 

 

Going around the kitchen, Yuuri had been so preoccupied trying to figure out what to say to Victor that he didn’t hear him walk in until he was right there, staring in slight shock at Yuuri. 

 

“Yuuri, lo-?” Victor cleared his throat, and Yuuri’s heart clenched at the cut off endearment. “Are you making  _ golubtsy _ ?”

 

“Yes, dear,” Yuuri smiled, placing the two plates right next to each other, instead of facing forwards on the two narrow edges of the rectangle-shaped table. They had been doing everything much too far apart for the last few days and it was time to change this. “Let’s eat!”

 

Victor sat down at the table almost in a trance, almost as if he’d get too close to Yuuri he would bolt like a baby deer. 

 

An awkward silence settled at the table, Victor quickly grasping to end it. “Um, practice was good, I’ve been perfecting my quad loop, Yakov refuses to say anything about it but that means I’m rivalling Chri-”

 

“Victor, we need to talk,” Yuuri said, letting his fork drop onto his plate and grabbing Victor’s hand. 

 

Victor visibly gulped. “Yuuri… I want you to know that… I can be better, I can be less… annoying or, extra, just if this is what this is about… I can be better.” 

 

Yuuri smiled sadly, squeezing Victor’s hand in tandem with Victor’s words squeezing and breaking Yuuri’s heart. Here it was again, yet more proof that Victor wasn’t let himself be himself, trying to mold himself to Yuuri’s whims and Yuuri didn’t want that - Yuuri wanted something real, something messy yes, but something real, nonetheless. 

 

“I thought we had gotten over this at Haestsu,” Yuuri sighed. “Victor… I don’t want you to be anything less, or anything more than you. You, just you and yourself, your own person, I want that. I want you to let yourself be yourself, I don’t care about how clingy or-or Extra you are. I love your clingy. I love your Extra. I love them because I love you, I wish I could express this in words but… I can’t.” 

 

Yuuri was pretty sure both their eyes were glistening by the end of his speech. He sighed, shifting his eyesight to their joined hands. Halfway through his lecture Victor had turned his hand, palm upwards, open and welcoming, sliding his fingers through Yuuri’s. His eyes snapped up back to Victor’s - they were definitely full of tears, and  _ god _ , Yuuri hoped they were happy tears. 

 

“Yuuri - I, I can’t…” Victor sniffled. “You always know just what to say. Sorry, sorry, I was in a funk, after what you said-”

 

“I know,” Yuuri said, leaning in. “And I’m sorry too, I absolutely didn’t mean that, I just wanted you to listen at the time, not change yourself, because I don’t want you to-”

 

“I guess we were both just massive idiots,” Victor whispered, slowly leaning his forehead against Yuuri’s. They stayed there for a while, just sharing their space and comforted by the fact that  _ they were alright.  _

 

Victor breathed in sharply. “Can I - can I please,  _ please _ hug you?” 

 

Instinctively Yuuri hooked a leg around Victor’s chair, twisting it towards his and slipping gracefully off his before straddling Victor’s lap. He wrapped his arms around Victor’s back, pressing them together tight enough to feel Victor’s rapid heart beating. The room was quiet and warm, potted plants lined up behind their sink and in front of their kitchen window, a pretty view of city lights laid out in front of him, but nothing, nothing could have compared to the feeling of Victor, safe, strong,  _ Victor _ , in his arms. 

 

“We are going to cuddle tonight, and you have no say in it,” Yuuri muttered into Victor’s neck. 

 

Victor huffed out a laugh. “I could live with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the thrilling conclusion!! i really hope i did their love justice, and touch-starved victor too!! that boy needs some love fite me<33 on another note: i am very, very romanian, and i apologise if i got the translation of sarmale wrong! google tells me that they're called golubtsy, but google has told me many things, not all of which are true. TLDR: sarmale are fckn great and you should 100% try some with cold sour cream and steaming mamaliga. all I'm saying.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hope you all enjoyed it xx


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